


No Better to Be Safe Than Sorry

by LoveThemWinchesters



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Bank Robbery, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explosions, Guilt, Hostage Situations, Internal Conflict, Kidnapping, M/M, Reporter!Jared, SWAT!Jensen, Villain!Misha, bottom!Jared, hurt!Jared, hurt!Jensen, top!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemWinchesters/pseuds/LoveThemWinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is an ex-marine turned officer of the law; he is also a member of LAPD’s elite SWAT team. Jared is a reporter for the LA Times; he has a penchant for getting into trouble while seeking out nothing less than the truth. They are two very different people, but at the same time, they aren’t. In the end, they both only want one thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be no more than 5,000 words. I'm not really sure what happened. It seems my muse hijacked my computer :)
> 
> Enjoy!  
>  
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I mean no disrespect to the people portrayed herein. We're all just having a little fun, aren't we? :)  
> \----------------------------------------------------  
> Warnings: This fic is m/m. Please do not read if you don’t like or are uncomfortable with this content.  
> \----------------------------------------------------  
> Again, many thanks to [RiatheMai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RiatheMai/pseuds/RiatheMai), [TxDorA](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TxDorA/pseuds/TxDorA), and [Kailene](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kailene/pseuds/Kailene) for your quick thoughts and read-throughs. You ladies are awesome!!

: :  : <> : <> :  : :        : : <>  **PART 1**  <>  : :       : :  : <> : <> :  : :

_< ><>  November 14, 2011 <><>_

 

The bed shifted ever so slightly beside him. Jared was awake. Jensen cracked an eye open and peered at the blur of red digits on the clock on the nightstand. 7:37 a.m. In his head, he did the math; a little over three hours of sleep. Jensen concentrated on keeping his breathing deep and steady; maybe the younger man would just roll over and go back to sleep until the alarm went off—even if it was just for a few more precious minutes. Staying up and fucking Jared into the wee hours of the morning had seemed like a good idea at the time—actually, he knew it was—but the lack of sleep was going to kick his ass today.

“Jen…” a hushed whisper blew across the sensitive skin of Jensen’s neck causing goosebumps to pebble up on his flesh.

“Go back t’sleep Jay,” Jensen grumbled even as he felt the press of Jared’s warm body along his side; his boyfriend’s morning erection was pushing into his left thigh as soft kisses were butterflied against the bare skin of his throat. Jensen couldn’t help but smile. Jared was insatiable.

Jensen’s sight was blocked from the arm he had draped over his eyes. He lifted his elbow just enough so he could peek out at the man he’d been with for just shy of three years. Jared was propped up on an elbow looking down at him. His hair was a mess, sticking up on one side and plastered flat to the side of his head on the other. Jared was grinning down at him—or was that more of a smirk?—dimples digging deep into his cheeks, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. Jensen wasn’t sure how to decipher that particular expression, but one thing he did know was that it meant trouble. It seemed Jared was always up to something; it was one of the things Jensen loved about him—Jared was the definition of spontaneous.

Really, how could Jared be so wide awake after what little sleep they’d had? Jensen didn’t know where he got the energy. It took at least two—maybe three—cups of coffee for Jensen to form just a cohesive thought, and that was after a full night’s rest.

“Good morning, sunshine,” the younger man teased as he slipped a hand under the sheets. His long fingers traced the fine pinkish-white line of a scar bisecting Jensen’s chest, slid down the smooth muscles of his abdomen, and then down along the soft trail of hair below his navel. Jensen dug his teeth into his lower lip as Jared wrapped them around his rapidly awakening length and gave a light stroke. Yeah, he knew right then that he was a goner.

“Jay,” he gasped, voice still scratchy with sleep, when Jared thumbed over the sensitive bundle of nerves on the underside of the head. His sleepy mind was saying, no; but his body was saying, yes, yes!

Don’t get him wrong, Jensen was all for hot, crazy monkey sex, but Jared had literally worn him out last night. _Four_ times Jensen had gotten off since they’d gotten back from Chris’ house around midnight—probably not the best thing to have done on a Sunday night. Jensen was in peak physical form, but, even so, the last time he’d shot his load, he thought he was going to drop of a heart attack.

Jared tossed the sheet aside and Jensen barely had a chance to acknowledge the cool air of the room settling onto his sleep-warmed skin before he found himself being straddled by the younger man and—

“ _Jesus Christ, Jay!”_ Jensen’s eyes snapped wide open, then, and his whole body jolted in a combination of both shock and pleasure as Jared slid down the length of his cock unexpectedly, muscles flexing as he settled onto Jensen’s lap. Jensen was fully awake now; screw the damn coffee. “Ohhhh….fuuuck, _”_ he groaned, hips instinctively rocking up in a thrust as Jared shifted above him. Jared was still sloppy and loose and wet from their late night screwing session and Jensen slid in to the hilt without any resistance. And, damn, it felt good.

Their eyes met, jeweled hazel to gold-flecked green. A whole conversation could be had in that gaze, but not a single word needed to be spoken. Jared leaned down and pressed his lips to Jensen’s. When he felt the prod of Jared’s tongue, Jensen opened to let him in as they began to settle into a slow rhythm.

Jensen’s hands traveled up the length of Jared’s torso from where they’d fallen onto his hips in his earlier surprise, fingers trailing lightly over the dips and ridges of his ribs, sliding over the expanse of his broad back, and then back down the vertebrae of his spine, until Jensen grasped the firm globes of Jared’s ass. Jared gasped above him as Jensen ran a finger along the stretched skin of his rim, feeling where they were joined as he was sliding in and out of his lover.

Jensen watched Jared as he rode him, skin flushed with exertion, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His chest rose and fell deeply with every pant, gasp, and whimper that escaped his beautiful mouth. Jared’s fingers were digging into the soft flesh just below Jensen’s ribs as he held himself up. From the tight hold he had on him, Jensen knew there would be little, red crescents decorating his sides from his boyfriend’s blunt nails left behind after they were done. He hadn’t had a chance to look in the mirror yet, but Jensen was sure he had colorful reminders all over his body from last night.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Jay,” Jensen managed to get out as he started to pick up the pace. He was nearing his breaking point and wanted to hold off until Jared got there first.

The only response he received was a lustful whine as Jared rocked back and arched his body, allowing Jensen to thrust even more deeply. He threw his head back, the tendons in his neck tensing as he clenched his teeth. Several sharp thrusts later, Jared shouted out, “Fuck, fuck…oh, god! Jen!” and then Jensen felt the first splashes of hot cum spurting over his chest.

Jensen lost his rhythm then. The heat that had been pooling low in his belly shot through him like an electrical current right down to his dick and he cried out, heels pushing into the mattress; his fingers slipped from Jared’s ass and dug into the thick muscles of his boyfriend’s thighs looking for something to hold onto as he hit his peak.

“Oh, yeah… Fuck…” What little breath he had left was pushed out of him when Jared collapsed onto his chest.

Jensen reached up and threaded his fingers through Jared’s hair. He lay there quietly and just breathed, taking in the scent of Jared that was so well-known to him after all the time they’d been together.

“Love you, Jen,” Jared murmured as he mouthed somewhat lazily along Jensen’s collarbone.

“Love you,” Jensen replied with a kiss to the crown of Jared’s head. “Hey…,” he said as he slowly rubbed a hand up and down Jared’s arm.

“Hmmm?”

“I gotta get up.”

“Hmmm…” Jared sounded more and more like he was falling back asleep. Go figure.

Jensen crooked a finger and poked it into Jared’s side causing Jared to jolt up off of Jensen’s chest and nearly fall off the bed. Jensen couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter. He’d never seen someone as ticklish as Jared.

“Dude!” Jared screeched out.

“Hey, told you I had to get up. You didn’t listen.” Jensen was still smiling as he leaned over and pressed his lips to Jared’s chastely.

“You’re such an ass!” Jared cursed at him even as he threaded his fingers through the short cut of Jensen’s hair and pulled him down for a more thorough kiss.

Behind them, the alarm on Jensen’s clock went off. Their playtime was officially over.

“Go on. Get your shower,” Jared said as they separated and he shifted to sit up. “If you’re late for your meeting this morning, you’re gonna hear it from both Beaver and Kane. I’ll get your uniform out—and I’ll even be nice and make your coffee and lunch.”

As Jared went to stand, Jensen snagged his wrist and stopped him from getting up. “Jay,” he said, suddenly serious, “you know how much you mean to me, right?”

Jared swallowed. His gaze was steady on Jensen. All Jensen could see was emotion in the younger man’s eyes; he knew what Jared was thinking. _Dammit, he should have seen that coming._ Jensen gave a brief flicker of a smile—it was laced with more than a bit of guilt—and then he pushed up from the bed and headed off to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.

It had been a while since _that_ particular subject had come up—a lot of that had to do with Jensen’s complete avoidance of the topic—and there was no time for it now, not when he had to leave for work soon, had a mandatory meeting that he couldn’t be late for. And really, Jensen didn’t think he had it in him right now to deal with the hurricane of emotions that it always brought along with it. He just didn’t know what else he had to do to make Jared understand why he couldn’t make that permanent commitment, why he couldn’t take that next step in their relationship…now or possibly ever.

Twenty minutes later, he was haphazardly tucking his shirt tails in and rushing through the house to the kitchen; his badge flashed as it caught the light from the overhead fixture above the counter. Jared was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, shoulders slightly hunched, his posture the only evidence that something was wrong; a cup of coffee was cradled in his hands and a copy of the Times was spread out in front of him—he’d met with the governor the other day about the state’s ongoing water crisis and was probably reading over the article he’d written. Jensen’s thermal mug and lunchbox were ready and waiting on the counter for him.

Jensen leaned down and gave Jared a parting kiss, saying, “Love you, Jay,” before he headed down the hallway toward the front door, fumbling to grab his coffee, lunch, keys, and cell phone on the way; it was a miracle he didn’t drop anything. He felt bad rushing off and leaving Jared like he was, but he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Duty called.

“Love you, too, Jen. Stay safe out there.”

“You know I will,” he promised as he ran out the door.

It was the same thing they said to each other every day.

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

“Man, I’ll trade you,” Chris whined as he pulled out his lunch. His sandwich fell limp between his fingers. They’d been caught up in a minor drug bust earlier and hadn’t been able to get to their lunches until now, well after three-thirty.

It had been a long fucking day already considering they’d had to somehow stay awake through the entirety of their two-hour monthly department meeting this morning—Captain Beaver hadn’t looked like he’d wanted to be there any more than the rest of them as he’d stood at the podium going over updated state safety regulations and procedures—and they still had three and a half more hours of their regular shift to go.

Jensen just looked at Chris with raised eyebrows, and then he barked out a laugh at the pout on his partner’s—and best friend’s—face. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ice packs, man. When are you ever gonna learn?” Jensen smirked as he bit into his own sandwich. He yelped when he received a solid punch to the shoulder. “Asshole. It’s not my fault you can’t pack a lunch without your mama.”

“Oh? And you’re gonna tell me Jay didn’t pack yours for you?” Jensen coughed as he choked on a piece of ham. “See? Knew it, you fucker. You ain’t so perfect either, pretty boy.”

Jensen rolled with the playful jabs from his friend. Aside from Jared—and Jensen’s family—Chris was the only other person who could get away with being a smartass around him. They’d known each other since being paired up together on Jensen’s first day with the LAPD. Chris initially hadn’t been too thrilled about the concept— _“C’mon, Cap, a rookie?”_ Somehow, they’d managed to not kill each other while cooped up in the car all by themselves during that first shift.

Chris, who was four years Jensen’s senior, was gruff, built like a brick shithouse, and didn’t take shit from anyone, let alone Jensen—which had actually earned him Jensen’s respect almost right away—but he also had a big heart and was someone you could trust with your life. The two of them had a special type of bond, one which, it seemed, only they could comprehend. But then again, they were both former jarheads; that might have had a lot to do with it. In a way, they were brothers, even if they hadn’t met until four years ago.

Although they’d both been marines, their careers had taken very different paths prior to working on the force. Chris had been an enlisted marine; he’d gone in when he was twenty-two after working a long line of odd jobs while trying, not too successfully, to launch a music career—by then, he’d been broke. He’d served two three-year terms, most of that time being on American soil. Jensen, on the other hand, had signed up for the long haul after attending one year of technical college—he’d found that it just wasn’t his thing—and had served a total of ten years, retiring when he was twenty-nine. Jensen had gone all out though; after a little more than two years of serving, he’d become Special Ops. Because of that, he’d spent many of his latter years as a Raider participating in active war overseas, mostly as a sniper. So, where Chris had a fairly easy go of things, Jensen had seen some shit, some of which he wished he could just bury and forget.

War changed something in a person and Jensen was certainly no exception to that rule. He knew he had his issues—a person tended to after they’d killed more men than they had fingers to count; being in the crosshairs of the enemy every day and night probably hadn’t helped a whole lot either, but it came with the territory—he wasn’t the same outgoing jock he’d once been in school all those years ago. Chris had been a major factor in helping Jensen become “human” again; he’d understood Jensen in ways others couldn’t.

“Fine.” Jensen dropped his sandwich onto the napkin in his lap. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “How ‘bout pizza? I’ll order you a pizza with everything on it, even the damn little fish, and have it delivered to the car. I don’t think they’ll mind; we’re cops. I’ll even tell ‘em they can break a few speed limits on the way.” He kept his tone serious, but the quirk of his lips gave him away.

“Fuck you, Ackles.” Chris bit into his wilted sandwich and made sure to chew with his mouth wide open.

“You wish.”

Mouth full of half-masticated bologna and cheese, Chris grinned toothily at Jensen from across the bench seat. The man was as straight as an arrow, but that difference had never come between them. Jensen had come out to Chris within a week of meeting the man—better to just get things out there, right? Surprisingly, even being the retired marine that he was, and also the fact that he was a “good ‘ol Texan boy”—Jensen knew how many Texans viewed people like him; after all, he was from Texas himself—Chris had been rather accepting of Jensen’s sexual orientation. Oh, and he’d been the reason Jensen had met Jared in the first place.

 _“I know a friend of a friend…”_ was how that had all started.

Chris had dragged him practically kicking and screaming to a New Year’s Eve bash. Jensen didn’t do crowds back then and he certainly didn’t do parties—at the time, he’d only been stateside for just over a year and still felt uncomfortable in large gatherings; hell, he’d hidden himself away at his own “Welcome Home” party. But then Jensen had set eyes on a tall young man with crazy chestnut-colored hair, mesmerizing eyes of blue, green, and brown, dimples as deep as the Grand Canyon carving into his cheeks when he smiled, shoulders as broad as…—yeah, he could go on and on about all of Jared’s devastatingly handsome features—and he hadn’t looked back since.

Their conversation tapered off and Jensen’s mind wandered, unbidden, back to this morning, to the conversation that he hadn’t let take flight…again. And to Jared—he knew Jared was far from okay about the way things stood between them. He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the chafe of the late afternoon stubble under his palm. The telling movement caught Chris’ attention.

“Okay, spill,” the other man said, never one to beat around the bush.

They’d had this talk before—several times, as a matter of fact—and Jensen really didn’t want to have it again. It was the one topic Chris didn’t have his back on. “It’s nothing, Chris.”

“Well, if it was nothing, you wouldn’t be sitting there all brooding an’ twitchy an’ shit. We ain’t’ goin’ anywhere, so you might as well get it out.” He shifted his body, putting his back to the door, and then crossed his arms over his broad, muscled chest. And then he just gave Jensen the _stare_.

 _Dammit_. 

Jensen let out a defeated sigh. “It came up again this morning,” he confessed. Chris raised an expectant brow, waiting for him to elaborate. Jensen knew he wasn’t going to have the answer the man wanted to hear. “Look, I’ve already told you, marriage for Jay and me? It isn’t on the table; he and I have talked about it…too many damn times, and he knows how I feel. I’m not leaving him a widow before the age of thirty. I know what he went through before when…,” he trailed off, hand absently coming up and scratching at the scar hidden under two layers of cotton, the same one Jared seemed so keen on trailing his fingers over anytime they were in bed together.

“You do realize Jay is—”

“…a grown man and can make his own decisions. Yeah, I got it, Chris—but I’ve told you before, I’m not gonna risk it. What we do, it’s dangerous; we all know that.” The tension in Jensen’s voice fell away then. “There’s always a risk. I’ve seen too many good men go down in my life and I’ve also seen the crap that’s left behind. I’m not willing to do that to him.”

“Jensen—”

Chris wasn’t given the chance to finish what he was going to say because the radio suddenly crackled to life and Alona’s voice filled the car. “44 in progress. Possible 80. Corner of Beech and Stowe. All units requested for backup.”

“Shit,” they both grumbled in unison. Armed robbery with a possible hostage situation. That meant an already long day was most likely going to become even longer.

Jensen knew the address. It was the First International Bank downtown; they were probably fifteen minutes away with the afternoon traffic. He tossed his unfinished sandwich onto the seat between them, their conversation thankfully put on hold for the time being, and went to grab the radio to let Alona know they were on their way. He was just pressing the button when Chris’ cell phone chirped. Jensen glanced over at him; the man was just taking a bite out of Jensen’s sandwich and might have looked a little guilty.

“Seriously? What are you, five?”

All he got was a half shrug before Chris popped the last of the sandwich into his mouth and pulled his phone out.

“Looks like we’re needed for bigger and better things today,” Chris said with an excited grin as he thumbed a response. “Gotta gear up for this one, Jenny.”

Chris lived for SWAT, almost as much as Jensen did. Well, if they were going to have to pull a little OT, at least they were going to have a bit of fun.


	2. Chapter 2

: :  : <> : <> :  : :      : : <>  **PART 2**  <>  : :     : :  : <> : <> :  : :

 

Jensen and Chris had to commandeer the closet-sized bathroom at the nearest local fast food restaurant to change into their tactical gear. Because they were on-call at literally all hours, they had to keep their equipment nearby (i.e. stashed in a special locker in the trunk of their patrol car at the moment). They went in as cops and came out as SWAT; Jensen still felt like freakin’ Clark Kent every time they did this, even after all these years—secretly, he might have enjoyed it just a little. They both kept their balaclavas pulled up to keep from scaring the civis too much as they strode back through the establishment toward the front entrance. Chris joked about grabbing a burger; Jensen rolled his eyes and pushed his partner out the door.

The whole city block was already cordoned off by the time Jensen pulled their car up to the scene. Several ambulances, and even a fire truck, lay in wait as was the usual modus operandi. One ambulance had a handful of EMTs swarming around the backside of it; Jensen could just make out someone on a stretcher. News crews, reporters, and curious onlookers hovered around the caution tape; Jensen always found himself wondering how they got to crime scenes so quickly. The local cops, who weren’t SWAT, were doing their best to create some semblance of order out of the ensuing chaos. Jensen squeezed the car in between two unmarked SUVs and shifted into park. Chris was out the door and practically in the trunk before the key was pulled from the ignition.

Jensen’s ballistic vest and helmet were tossed to him when he caught up with the other man; he pulled his balaclava down, covering his nose and mouth before slipping them on with practiced ease, then began to scrounge through the weapons locker. Jensen buckled on his utility belt; he already had his Glock strapped to his thigh, but he grabbed his Beretta as back up—the more weapons, the better when it came to their line of work. He checked the clip making sure it was full and then tucked it into his shoulder holster. After, he retrieved his baby, his M14 sniper rifle, and slung it over his head and shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked Chris as he took in their surroundings. The sun was hugging the horizon in the late autumn sky and the shadows were growing long between the buildings. Everything was quiet for the moment…the proverbial calm before the storm. If whatever this was wasn’t wrapped up within the next half hour or so, they’d be pulling this job off in the dark. That always added another interesting facet to the situation—not one that Jensen minded though. The harder the task, the more fulfilling it was when they turned the tide and took down the bad guys.

“Yeah,” his friend replied calmly as he finished checking the rounds in his own Beretta and deftly slid the clip back in place. “You seen Morgan yet?”

Jensen gestured with his chin. “Over there.”

Chris looked to where Jensen had indicated as he slammed the trunk closed. Their commanding officer was talking to someone in uniform and hadn’t seen them yet. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” The two men bumped fists—it was something that had originally started off as an inside joke, but then had become somewhat of a pre-game ritual between them over time—and then they jogged over to their CO.

Jeffrey Morgan turned when he heard their approaching footsteps. He was dressed as they were, all in black, the bold letters of “SWAT” emblazoned in white across his back. He didn’t look happy, but then again, he always looked like he was pissed off.

“Goddammit! What the fuck are you doing here, Ackles?” Morgan’s question came out with an irritated growl.

Jensen tripped up in his tracks, his superior officer’s words throwing him off. He swept his gloved hand toward the bank. “Um, armed robbery? Hostage situation? You guys put up the Bat-signal.”

Morgan damn near rolled his eyes at the reference. “We sure as hell did, but not for you.”

Jensen shifted his stance, glanced over at Chris who shrugged in confusion, and then looked back at Morgan. Then he remembered… He’d never actually gotten a text message, only Chris had. Neither of them had noticed in their rush to get here.

“Sir, what—?”

Jensen knew he was one of the best men on the team. If he threw modesty out the window entirely, he knew he _was_ the best man; he was point man more often than not. It didn’t make sense that Morgan would want him to sit this one out.

As he was having his little stand-off with Morgan, the rest of the team rolled up in one of their armored vehicles. Eight men and women jumped out of it and started to check their gear before heading over to where Jensen, Chris, and Morgan were standing. Jensen knew them all with just a glance, even if they were fully helmeted and had half their faces covered: Danni, Steve, Aldis, Beth, Chad, Matt, Tom, and Mike. His team.

“I don’t have time for explanations. I’ve got a critical hostage situation—” Their normally stoic CO seemed a little _off_ to Jensen as he spoke the words—what the hell was that all about? “—and a bank I need to take back. I’m sorry.” Before Jensen could argue, Morgan turned and stalked off to meet up with the new arrivals. “Let’s go, Kane,” he barked when Chris didn’t immediately follow.

“Fuck,” Jensen muttered just loud enough to cause Morgan to stop and look over his shoulder. “No offense, sir, but _what the_ _fuck_ am I missing here?” Jensen did his best to tamp down the flare of anger he felt growing at his core, but there was only so much he could hold back.

“Jensen,” Morgan seemed to deflate some, his stiff posture suddenly not so stiff—and the fact that he used Jensen’s first name was a bit odd, “I’ll brief you in a few. Until then, you just gotta trust me and let me do my job.” And then he was walking away again.

Jensen watched the man as he weaved his way through the parked patrol cars and undercover vans. What news crews weren’t already there were pulling up, pushing the lines as far as they dared; Jensen could hear doors sliding open and closed around him as they got their equipment out and readied it for live coverage. The onslaught of reporters was keeping the officers busy. A sudden and loud _thumpthumpthump_ had Jensen looking at the sky overhead. A helicopter. Jesus, what a goddamned mess.

And Morgan had left Jensen to just stand on the sidelines and play spectator.

Instinct had his eyes scoping out the area—sliding over the rooftops, eyeing the nearby alleyways—looking for anything suspicious. The normal everyday traffic was being diverted and the streets were unusually empty aside from half the emergency vehicles in L.A. The ambulance at which the flurry of activity had been earlier finally took off, siren screaming, lights flashing. Behind it, Jensen saw a familiar car parked at the curb…

Of course, he’d be here. This was a big story. The First International Bank was the largest in the city; it was front page news for the Times.

Jensen quickly scanned the area again, this time concentrating on the heads and faces in the crowd. No one stood out like the sasquatch that Jared was. Huh. He looked back at his team and, just as he did, Chris happened to turn his head toward him. The usual fierce determination was there on the other man’s face, but there was something else there, too. It was hard to label it as one particular emotion, but Jensen saw it before Chris could tuck it away. Something akin to fear—and was that pity?—was in the man’s deep, cerulean eyes.

Jensen’s stomach did a somersault and he felt bile rise in the back of his throat as the pieces began to shift and fall into place. His heart hammered at his ribs, pounded in his ears. He didn’t realize he was moving until Chris was there grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Jensen. Jen, hey!”

Jensen didn’t listen. He attempted to pull away from the other man. He needed to find Jared, make sure he was okay…that he was alive. If he had to take down twenty people to get to him, so help him, he would.

“Stop! He’s…he’s not in there, Jen.”

Jensen’s entire body tensed; his mind was going too many places at once. He whipped around and grabbed Chris by the velcroed edges of his vest. “What the hell do you mean he’s not in there? Where the fuck is he?” He felt his fingers twitch wanting to take out his Glock and start making threats. He could ask questions later. “ _What happened, Chris_?”

Chris shook his head and sighed. “Fuck me. Just… Come over here and I’ll bring you up to speed with what’s going on.”

Jensen let his hands drop away from the tight hold he’d had on his friend as Chris grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him off in the direction of one of the vans; they stopped when they reached it. Jensen removed his helmet, pulled his balaclava up, and wiped at his forehead. There was a slight tremble in his fingers, but not enough that Chris would notice.

“Talk to me, Chris. And no bullshit either. I want to know exactly what’s going on.” Things weren’t making any sense to him. If Jared had gotten caught up in this somehow, it would have meant he’d have been here _before_ things went down, _before_ the cops got here, _before_ the news crews and reporters even knew something was going on. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to gather some modicum of control. If Jared was in danger, he would be counting on Jensen to get him out. Jensen couldn’t go running off half-cocked. “Is Jay—?”

“The last we knew, he was okay.”

“And how long ago was that?” Jensen knew things could change in a heartbeat, especially in a hostage situation. And if he knew Jared—which he did extremely well—the younger man could very well piss someone off with that innate stubbornness of his.

Chris pulled his cuff up and glanced at his watch. “ ’bout a half hour ago.”

That was roughly five minutes before they’d gotten the call from dispatch…when they’d been in the middle of discussing Jared. As if Jensen didn’t feel guilty enough already about the way he’d left things this morning. “Shit.” Jensen looked from Chris, to the bank, to Morgan, and then back again. “Chris, you can’t leave me in the dark. This is Jay we’re talking about here. At least tell me what you know.”

Chris glanced at Morgan before speaking, but the reluctance in his eyes was fading fast. Jared was Chris’ friend, too. “Morgan's gonna kick my ass for this, but…yeah, okay. Just promise me you won’t do anything too stupid.” Jensen lifted an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, man, didn’t think you could make that promise. Dumb thing to ask. So…”

Jensen listened intently as Chris briefed him.

Somehow Jared had ended up inside the bank. The questions of “Why?” and “How?” kept nagging at the edges of Jensen’s mind. The only thing he could think of was that Jared had sniffed something out and had followed his nose. Sometimes Jared was too curious for his own goddamn good; this wouldn’t be the first time his ass landed into a pile of trouble to get a good story for the paper. When this was over—and, yes, Jensen was going to get Jared back…alive and in one piece—he was going to have to sit down and have a serious chat with his boyfriend.

Chris drilled through the facts as quickly as he could; they both knew the clock was ticking.

All total, there had been six perps that they knew of. Four had gotten away—Jared in tow—before the cops had time to secure the building. Two were still inside…one critically wounded—the security guard had gotten a lucky shot off before all went to hell; the old-timer was who the ambulance had carted away earlier.

No one was sure why the injured perp and his buddy had been left behind, but it actually made the situation inside the bank dozens of times worse. As the seconds passed by, they were growing exponentially desperate, but, even so, they were still smart enough to stay out of the line of fire as they held a small group of bank employees and customers at gunpoint. Truth was, they had nowhere to run…and nothing to lose. Morgan had his hands full. Searching for Jared would stretch him thin.

From the bank’s surveillance footage, they were able to take a good guess as to how Jared had ended up at the wrong end of things…namely the business end of a gun.

“He what?!” Jensen nearly hollered causing several people nearby to look in their direction—there might have been a news camera or two spying on them as well—when Chris explained what had happened.

“Yeah, your boy, the fuckin’ Good Samaritan that he is, got between one of them asshats and the bank manager when he started making threats, offered himself up as hostage, Jen, said they’d have more leverage if they took him instead… _because his boyfriend is an L.A. cop_. Stupid son of a—” When Jensen glared at Chris, the man cut himself off, but he didn’t offer any apology.

Jensen rubbed a gloved hand over the nape of his neck and stared off toward the bank. It was so “Jared” to just go and do something like that, to put himself out there without even thinking what he was doing. Jared would jump out of his damn car and stop traffic in the middle of a freeway just to save a stray puppy…actually, he’d done that.

“We’re trying to negotiate with the two inside,” Chris continued. “They ain't really listening. They say—”

“That they’ll kill Jay if we don’t let them walk,” Jensen finished for Chris so the man wouldn’t have to repeat it.

Chris pursed his lips, but nodded in confirmation.

Jensen closed his eyes and took another controlled breath…in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he opened them again, he saw Morgan watching him; the man gave him a subtle nod. Jensen knew protocol required that his CO pull him out. After all, Jensen couldn’t be objective in this being whom one of the hostages was, but the game wasn’t over, not by a long shot—and he’d just gotten Morgan’s “off the record” go ahead. Jensen knew there was a reason he liked the man.

“Do we have any idea who the perps are? Have they matched them up to anyone in the database?” he asked as he turned to face Chris again. Jensen knew he was pushing the other man. Just the information he’d already shared could earn his friend a suspension. Morgan might have just turned a blind eye to Jensen and what he was about to do, but he wasn’t likely to appreciate both of them running off; he could maybe explain Jensen if things went all to hell, but not Chris, too.

“Jen… C’mon. You keep saying ‘we.' You’re out, man. You have to trust me and the others to get him back. And we will, I promise. We’re a team—family—we take care of each other, and that includes Jay.”

Jensen wasn’t really listening to what Chris had to say anymore. He might be “officially” out, but he was going to make it his mission to find Jared and bring him home. He adjusted the strap to the rifle on his shoulder and met Chris, eye to eye. “Look, I trust you and the team. What I _don’t_ trust are the fuckers who took ‘im.” With that, he spun on his heel and stalked off toward their patrol car.

“Jensen, you goddamned stubborn bastard,” he heard Chris grumble at his back as he slipped behind the wheel of their car and tossed his rifle, helmet, and vest onto the passenger’s seat.

Jensen pulled off his gloves and booted up their laptop, driver’s side door still open behind him. He heard Chris’ continued cursing under his breath as he approached.

“If Morgan—”

“Morgan knows.”

“What?”

“He knows, so shut up already,” Jensen practically growled as he got online. He started making his way into an old military server he’d been familiar with during his days working in Ops. He still had some valuable connections and resources.

Chris gaped like a fish out of water, but wisely chose to keep his mouth shut for once which Jensen was appreciative of.

Jensen was concentrating on the computer, fingers sweeping across the keys in a blur. He didn’t bother trying to track Jared’s cell phone. The perps would have confiscated the device first thing. He had something better, less conspicuous, that he could trace.

Less than a minute later, a very high-tech and detailed satellite image appeared onscreen. Jensen could feel Chris peering in over his shoulder, watching as he zoomed in and pulled up screen after screen of city grids. Finally, Jensen saw what he was looking for. A small, flashing green dot could be seen hovering over one of the warehouses by the docks.

“Got ‘im.”

He quickly logged out of the server and slammed the lid of the laptop down. Now that he knew where he was going, Jensen reached over to retrieve his gear from the other seat and then turned to get out of the car. He stopped in mid action when he saw that Chris was blocking his exit. Jensen looked up at the man and raised an eyebrow. Chris should know this wasn’t the time to get in his way.

“What in the hell was that?” the other man asked, looking less than thrilled at what he'd just seen Jensen doing.

Jensen knew it was more or less a rhetorical question. Chris would know _exactly_  what he’d been looking at, and he could hear the note of warning in the older man’s voice. If anyone found out Jensen was still tapping into those servers, he’d probably end up in a pretty pair of steel bracelets of his own.

“What do you think? – Now, are you gonna get outta my way, or do I have to move you?”

There was a moment’s hesitation from Chris, his brow furrowing deeply, his lips pursed, but then he slapped his palm down on the roof of the car in resignation, sending a hollow sound reverberating through the vehicle. He muttered something under his breath too low for Jensen to hear, but it sounded a lot like, “ _God, I hope I don’t regret this_.”

“Fine—but if you think I’m gonna let you do this alone, you’re a bigger idiot than I ever thought you were.”

Jensen should have expected no less.


	3. Chapter 3

: :  : <> : <> :  : :       : : <>  **PART 3**  <>  : :      : :  : <> : <> :  : :

 

By the time they reached the docks, the sun was well below the horizon setting the city line behind them in stark relief against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Jensen cut the headlights and parked Jared’s Jeep several buildings over from where he’d pinpointed the tracking signal. The area they’d driven to was mostly utilized by the local shipping companies to store their cargo containers in between shipments—the multi-colored steel boxes rose eight to ten high in some stacks. Of the few warehouses dotting the landscape, Jensen was only interested in one. It was at the far end, closest to the water.

“So, does Jay know he’s walking around with a military-grade tracking device on him?” Chris asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He looked over and gave Jensen one of those knowing looks.

Jensen shrugged somewhat innocently. He knew his partner was needling him because he was trying to lighten the air between them. The car ride over had been heavy with nervous tension and neither had said a word to the other.

“I got him a watch,” Jensen said by way of explanation. He opened his door and started to get out.

“Jen… Really—?” Chris’ brow was raised when Jensen glanced back at him.

“Just…yeah. It was a really nice one if it makes you feel any better.” Jensen closed the door before his friend could put in any more of his two cents. Arguing over the issue would waste time…time Jared didn’t have. (And clearly, Jensen was right in doing what he’d done; today was absolute proof of that.)

A somber silence settled over the two men as they started to gather what they needed to bring with them. They were going in light not wanting to be bogged down by the cumbersome weight of their duffels.

Jensen slipped back into his vest, velcroing it on tight, and then tucked the pouches of his vest full of goodies: several flash bang grenades, a canister of tear gas, two spare clips for his Glock, and another for his Beretta. He stashed his night vision goggles into a small pack that he clipped to his utility belt; with the fast fading light, there was a good chance he’d need them at some point. Chris mirrored his actions at his side. Last, but not least, they grabbed their rifles and slung them over their heads and shoulders.

Their balaclavas were quickly pulled into place over their faces leaving just the steeled focus of their eyes visible; their helmets were put on and buckled, and then their gloves were slipped on. When they were ready, Jensen stopped and looked at Chris for a moment. They didn’t know what they were heading into, or what they would find at the other end. He raised his closed fist and then their knuckles met.

“Let’s get this done.”

Chris nodded solemnly and then they hunched low and ran across the empty lot, guns at the ready.

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

They were more than halfway to their target location when Chris signaled for Jensen to hold up. They pressed their backs up against the corrugated metal wall behind them and Jensen looked to his partner for explanation. _Had he seen something that Jensen hadn’t?_ But that wasn’t the case at all. Chris was busy peeling off one of his gloves and digging his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Chris?” Jensen hissed impatiently.

“Hang on, it’s from Steve,” Chris responded without looking up from his phone. He was reading a text message.

Jensen pressed his teeth into his lower lip. He looked over his shoulder at the large warehouse two buildings over. In the ever deepening twilight, he couldn’t make out much for detail. The few lamps overhead didn’t do anything more than light up a fifty foot radius around them, but they were still too bright for him to make use of his night vision. From what he could see, it appeared to be like the couple of others around them, fairly basic with a set of rollaway doors, an access door off to the side, and a handful of windows set high up in the walls. His attention was pulled away from his examination of the building when he heard a muttered, “Shit. This ain’t good.”

“What?” He looked back over at Chris.

“Steve and the gang took down the two perps at the bank.”

“Okay. But shouldn’t that be a _good_ thing?”

To be honest, Jensen didn’t really give a shit about the lackeys at the bank. Jared was less than a thousand feet away from him and all he wanted to do was get in, get him, and get out…and maybe shoot a few of those fuckers in the kneecaps while he was at it.

“It’s Krushnic.”

Jensen’s heart might very well have missed a few beats at the name.

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

_< ><>  July 18, 2009 <><>_

 

_Arms Trafficking… Cyber Crimes… Murder…_

_And those were just the tip of the iceberg. They had gotten a key witness to break and the arrest warrant had been issued late that afternoon. With the documents in hand, Jensen and the team had just burst through the front door of Dmitri Krushnic’s—a.k.a. Misha Collins’—seaside estate seconds ago, but the place seemed deserted._

_In the sitting room adjacent to the foyer, a half-full decanter of bourbon sat on the coffee table, a mostly empty glass next to it; a suit jacket was draped over the back of the leather couch neighboring it, and a comfortable fire was crackling and popping in the hearth despite it being the middle of July. There was no doubt that the man had been there recently, but where was he now?_

_Jensen, who was running point tonight, gestured with a hand to Chris—he directed the older man to take the east wing. Silently shadowing him were Danni and Chad. With another quick gesture, Jensen sent Steve off to the west wing, Tom and Mike flanking him. Their two teams would sweep the first and second floors. Aldis and Beth were with Jensen; they took off through the center of the house, clearing the kitchen, and immediately headed down the stairs to the rooms of the lower level, weapons drawn. The only noises that could be heard were their booted feet hitting the treads of the stairs and the muted jingling of their gear._

_Adrenaline was coursing through Jensen’s veins as they made their way down to the basement. They were so close to catching Krushnic he could practically taste it. After they got this job done and got out of here, he was going directly home to take a nice, hot shower and then he was taking Jared out to celebrate. It wasn’t just closing the case on Krushnic that he wanted to celebrate, it was also Jared’s birthday tomorrow and Jensen had an early surprise for him. He couldn’t help but let his smile bleed through the hard game face he wore during the job._

_When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jensen held his hand up calling a halt. The corridor in front of them split into two, one long hallway leading off to the left, another shooting off to their two o’clock. Two directions and three of them meant someone was going to have to go solo._

_“You two go left; I’ll take right. Meet back here in five.” They synced their watches and then they were off. Going off alone might not have been his best decision—Jensen knew that—but it’s what the circumstances called for._

_A door came up on his right and he opened it, scanned the room. Empty. He reached another, also on the right, and pushed the door open. Again, nothing. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he whispered under his breath as he stalked down the corridor. Several more rooms lined the length of the passageway—a billiard room, a wine cellar, a storage closet, the utility room—but he came up short at each and every one of them. Jensen hit a bend in the corridor and rounded it with caution, checking to make sure the safety on his Sig was off as he did. In front of him was another door, the last door. It wasn’t like the others. This one was made from reinforced steel._

_Yahtzee._

_He reached out to test the knob. It was locked. Something told him this door wasn’t going to budge with a swift, hard kick. Dammit. He stood there and stared at the door in contemplation. A little C-4 might improve the situation. He grinned and pulled one of the pouches on his utility belt open—blowing things up always made Jensen smile. Just as his fingers wrapped around the small block of clay, a heavy weight crashed into him from behind knocking the wind out of him completely. He was thrown up against the door, his helmet his only protection as his head ricocheted off the hard metal surface. His gun hit the floor with a resounding clatter. Shit._

_Jensen reared up and swung his head back into his attacker and then whirled around, bringing an arm up to block a punch aimed at his face. As he did, he sent an upper cut to the man’s jaw. The other man’s fist blocked, it connected with Jensen’s forearm instead, sending a jolt of pain up through his elbow. That was going to leave a bruise._

_He was a good fighter, had bested most of the guys in his unit back in the corps, but this guy had stamina; he wouldn’t back down, met Jensen hit for hit and then some. What felt like minutes instead of seconds passed by and Jensen was quickly learning that he was on the losing end of this battle. He made a move for his Beretta, reaching for his shoulder holster, but his opponent anticipated the move and slammed into his face again. Jensen saw stars just as he felt a gush of warmth trickling down over his lips. Blood. The guy probably just broke his fucking nose. And then he was hit again…and again. The passageway felt like it was beginning to tilt and shift under Jensen’s feet…or was that him?_

_The attempt to remain upright was fruitless. The massive hulk of a guy didn’t give up until Jensen sagged down to the ground. His Beretta was torn from its holster, and then Jensen heard the ripping sound of Velcro. His attacker was removing his vest—Jensen was vulnerable, too vulnerable, without the protection of his vest. He made a last ditch attempt at getting away. He rolled back, his M4 digging painfully into his spine as he did—close combat didn’t allow Jensen to make use of the short-range rifle. The world spun dizzily around Jensen as he kicked up, twisting and clamping his legs around the guy’s knee, and toppled him over to the floor. All he got for his effort was another meaty fist to the left kidney and thick fingers around his throat. Jesus Christ, he was going to be hurting tomorrow._

_“Enough.” The word was said from somewhere behind them startling Jensen; it was a voice he recognized all too well. “Get him up.”_

_The weight on Jensen disappeared and then he was roughly dragged up to his knees by his shirt collar. Jensen’s breath came in ragged gasps as much needed air filled his oxygen-deprived lungs once more._

_“Well, well, what do we have here?” Jensen blinked his eyes, trying to clear the blood and sweat hampering his vision—but he didn’t have to have a clear view of his foe to feel the cold, piercing blue eyes of Dmitri Krushnic boring into him. The man was standing barely five feet in front of him. “A little lost sheep all on his own…in a house of wolves, no less. Where’s your back up?” The man shifted to look down the hallway behind Jensen and his captor. He seemed fairly unconcerned about the almost a dozen SWAT members crawling around his home as he turned his gaze back down to Jensen. “I don’t know whether to call you brave…or stupid.”_

_“You’re going down, Krushnic,” Jensen growled defiantly. “She talked, struck a deal with the DA. We’ve got enough evidence to put you away for life.” He continued to struggle against the man behind him, but the brute had Jensen’s arm twisted across his back too tightly. His shoulder screamed out in agony with even the slightest of movement._

_“I always said you couldn’t trust a woman with a secret,” Krushnic said with an exasperated sigh. “Oh, well. As for your gracious offer about prison, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn you down. Those places are such an inconvenience. I’d much prefer somewhere with a nice beach and endless margaritas. Sorry,” he continued on with way more confidence and certainty than a man in his position should have. When he stepped forward and reached out, Jensen couldn’t help but flinch back, but all the man did was unbuckle Jensen’s helmet and toss it aside. Then he reached down the front of Jensen’s neck, tucked his cool fingers under the edge of his balaclava and yanked it up and off, revealing a blood-smeared face, hard green eyes, and a messy array of dirty blond spikes._

_He leered at Jensen as he looked him over. “My, my…if it weren’t for all that blood, I’d say you were a pretty one.” Jensen could only glare at Krushnic, held fast as he was by the man at his back. “It’s a shame we don’t have more time to get to know one another, but well, I have a plane to catch and I can’t have you and your goody-two-shoed brethren following me. I’m sure you understand.” He moved away again—Jensen knew not to let his guard down though. This man was known for his brutality, his ruthlessness; people usually didn’t tend to walk away after being in his presence._

_Suddenly, Jensen found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, his own gun from what he could tell. He didn’t see that coming. His eyes widened and he began to struggle with renewed effort, this time for what he knew could possibly be his very life. Shit, he’d really fucked up tonight._

_Something in Krushnic’s expression changed then; the hard edges softened…but contrary to the rest of his features, his lips twisted up into a deadly and manic grin. Jensen knew then…he was going to die. The thought was barely completed before the earsplitting crack of a gunshot echoed off the walls of the narrow passageway a single heartbeat later._

_Jensen didn’t feel it when he fell to the floor; he didn’t feel the hot ooze of blood seeping out of the gaping hole in his chest. He was hardly able to acknowledge it when Krushnic knelt over him a moment later, looking vaguely sympathetic._

_“I can respect a man like you,” the man whispered into Jensen’s ear, warm breath brushing over his skin as he spoke, “so I’ll walk away from this—you may live, you may die; it all depends on whether your friends find you in time—but know this, if I see you again, I’ll make you and yours pay. No one gets in my way.” At that, he straightened up and disappeared into the shadows beyond the metal door which now stood wide open, leaving Jensen to bleed out onto the cold, hard floor._

_Jensen began to shiver, his body growing colder as he lay there; he was aware enough to know that his body was shutting down, that he was dying. The last thought Jensen had before his eyes drifted closed was of the engagement ring hidden in his bottom drawer at home. At least when Jared found it—and he would eventually—he’d know how much he’d been loved._

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

_< ><>  Present Day <><>_

 

The proposal had never happened, not that night, nor ever.

Beth and Aldis had found Jensen first; the others hadn’t been too far behind having heard the gunshot echo through the silence of the house. From what Jensen had later learned, Chad had driven straight to the LA Times. He’d been the one to witness the look of agony on his best friend’s face when the realization had hit Jared—not a word had been spoken; it had all been in Chad’s eyes. And Jensen? Well, he’d flat-lined three times on the table that day, had a foot through Death’s door, as the surgeons had opened him up to stem the flow of blood. There hadn’t been any celebrations that night.

The injury he’d sustained from Krushnic’s single bullet had torn through some pretty important bits and Jensen’s doctor had opted to keep him in a medically-induced coma for nine days to aid in his healing; Jared had never left his side during that time.

When Jensen had opened his eyes, the first thing he’d seen was Jared. The younger man had looked so…broken. To put it bluntly, he’d looked like shit, dark shadows under bloodshot eyes, hair unwashed and uncombed, the clothes he had on were rumpled, and the scruff on his face looked days old; he'd looked so much older than his twenty-seven years. Jensen had made his decision almost as soon as consciousness caught up to him.

The proposal wasn’t going to happen; it wasn’t postponed, it was altogether cancelled. He wasn’t going to put that kind of commitment on Jared’s shoulders. That would be selfish, to put someone as young as Jared in that kind of position. Jensen could lose his life at any given moment on the job. He felt he was giving Jared a chance to move on to something— _someone_ —more stable, someone who was less of a risk. He had given Jared an out—one that, to this day, Jared had stubbornly never taken.

“…were after some microchip the bank was holding onto. They couldn’t get to it because the vault has one of those new random timers on it. And now the Feds are here and they want in; they want to know where we are. – Hey, you still with me?” Chris smacked Jensen in the arm when he saw that he seemed a little distant.

“Microchip. Bank vault. Feds,” Jensen repeated, his subconscious mind coming to the rescue.

Chris looked long and hard at him. He knew this job had just become personal for Jensen. “Let me guess, it’s a no on telling them where we are. You know they’ve probably already tracked our phones.”

“Then let’s get moving before they get here and make more of a mess of things than we’ve already got.” And then Jensen took off toward the warehouse without looking back.

When they reached it, they backed up against the wall once more.

“Did they get it, the chip?” Jensen asked as he snuck a peek around the corner of the building. There was a security light above the door; the way was clear, or at least appeared to be. He wished he could take a look inside so he knew what they were up against, but the windows were too damn high.

“No. That’s why the whole confrontation with the bank manager went down. And then, you know, the thing with Jared.”

Jensen wasn’t sure if he would have preferred a yes or a no to his question. Yes, and Jared would be expendable. No, and Krushnic might be looking for a trade: Jared’s life for the microchip. Either way, Jared was up to his eyeballs in shit. These people were professionals; they didn’t screw around.

A bead of sweat trickled down between Jensen’s shoulder blades and he adjusted his grip on his Glock. A mental picture of Jared lying on the floor in a pool of thick, crimson blood passed by his mind’s eye fleetingly. Jensen blinked his eyes clearing the image from his mind and forced himself to get his head back on straight.

An idea occurred to him as he looked up at the windows along the side of the building. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember North Hills?”

Chris was quiet for a span of seconds, and then he groaned. He knew exactly what Jensen was talking about. “That goddamn cat with its ass stuck up in a tree.”

“Yup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Misha makes such an awesome villain. I couldn't help it :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly longer chapter than the others. Have fun!

: :  : <> : <> :  : :       : : <>  **PART 4**  <>  : :      : :  : <> : <> :  : :

 

“Hope you’ve gone on a diet since then,” Chris mumbled as they slipped through the lengthening shadows and came to a stop under the closest window.

They both looked up to see what they were up against. The window was ten feet from the ground, give or take. Jensen tucked his Glock into his thigh holster as he did and adjusted the placement of his M14 so it would be out of his way.

“Ready?” he asked, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up the muscles.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “But remember, I’m doing this for Jay.” And then Chris clasped his hands and held them low to give Jensen the boost up he needed.

Jensen climbed his friend like a ladder. He did his best to keep his balance and not hurt the man. Combat boots weren’t exactly friendly when it came to something like this. He stepped up onto Chris’ shoulders and stretched up to get a look through the grime-coated window.

It was a wide open space inside. Jensen spied three men at first; they were all armed. One was sitting at a table working on a laptop while another looked over his shoulder. The third was pacing the room talking on a cell phone. None of them looked like Krushnic and Jared was nowhere to be seen.

 _Dammit_. 

Reminding himself that he had to take in the layout of the building, Jensen scanned the scene below—front door, a couple of rollaways, what appeared to be two small rooms or offices on the other side, file cabinets, a bunch of wooden crates stacked up against the far end, a forklift, a makeshift break area with a vending machine and a table with a coffee maker, and the back door. The place wasn’t exactly conducive to a stealthy entrance.

He was just about to start climbing down when the door to one of the offices opened. Jensen stilled when Jared literally spilled out of the room and landed in a heap on the floor; the younger man only just caught himself before face-planting on the unforgiving concrete. His hands were bound in front of him and he looked like he’d been worked over, but he was still alive, thank god.

Jensen’s eyes were drawn away from Jared when Krushnic stepped out behind him. The man looked pissed and was yelling something at his men that Jensen wished to hell he could hear. The grunt on the laptop turned and said something to him in response as Krushnic waved a small piece of paper in the air at him. He wondered what that was all about.

Jensen swept his eyes over the frame of the window he was spying through. The lock was less than stellar; they usually were in places like this. He reached down to free his knife from its sheath and pried it in between the seam of the window. He grimaced and froze when the half-rusted lock broke free with a sudden creaking _squeak_. In the silence, it sounded loud enough to raise the dead.

“What the hell you doin’ up there, man?” Chris hissed from below.

Jensen ignored him and hoped the hinge of the window was quieter than its counterpart.

It was, but not by much.

When he looked back inside, he saw Jared make an attempt to get up off the floor; he was barely up on one knee before Krushnic grabbed him by the hair—Jensen could hear his boyfriend’s grunt of pain even from this distance—and dragged him over to an empty chair, forcing him down into it. Jared didn’t move when a gun suddenly appeared in Krushnic’s hand and he began to wave it around.

“Did you really think you could pull one over on me?” Krushnic held the slip of paper up in front of Jared’s face. “That I wouldn’t find out whom,” the man wildly jabbed a finger at the paper, “your _boyfriend_ is?”

Now Jensen knew what had Krushnic so pissed off. Now he knew what that slip of paper was. It was the picture Jared carried in his wallet of the two of them when they’d visited the Alamo last year. Krushnic had recognized Jensen. _Fuck._

Jensen didn’t want to leave. In the seconds—minutes—it would take for him and Chris to get inside and get to Jared, all hell could break loose, but Jensen wasn’t in the position to take a clean shot, not while standing on Chris’ shoulders. If he slipped and his shot went wide… He didn’t even want to think about the consequences.

Jensen could see the tension in Jared’s shoulders as he looked boldly back at the other man and prayed that his boyfriend would stay smart about this, but his hopes were dashed when Jared opened his mouth. Whatever he’d said—it was too quiet for Jensen to hear—earned him a backhanded hit which landed with a resounding _crack_ and snapped his head back.

“Goddammit,” he growled. He’d seen enough.

Jensen wasn’t so easy on his descent from Chris’ shoulders. His haste got him a muffled, “Fuck, take it easy, Jen.”

“He knows. Fuck. He knows who Jared is, knows who I am. We gotta get in there.”

“What, Jay told him?”

“No, he found the picture Jay keeps in his damn wallet. He made me.”

Jensen looked around them as he spoke taking in what they had to work with. They needed more options; doors number one and two were too risky. His eyes darted from the buildings to the cargo containers to the lamp shining down on them. Light. Electricity. Power.

“We gotta cut the power, go in dark. It’s the only way.”

“And how’re we supposed to do that without gettin’ our asses fried? It’s not like there’s an on/off switch just kicking around.”

“Don’t know, man, but you’ve got five minutes to figure it out.”

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

Jensen glanced at his watch. Chris had one minute left. He hoped his friend was able to pull some kind of miracle out of his ass—because it was now or never. Jensen pulled his lock picks out and set to work. Seconds later, the lock clicked. He took a breath, letting it out slowly, and then…the power cut out. _Son of a bitch. Chris did it._ Jensen allowed a brief smile to touch his lips as he stood up and cautiously pushed the door open, being sure to keep himself out of any line of fire—with the moon at his back highlighting his silhouette, he’d make far too easy a target to anyone who happened to look in his direction.

A litany of curses could be heard from within the building. Jensen reached up to flip down his night vision and then entered the warehouse, making sure to close the door quietly behind him once he was fully inside. In the hazy, green glow of his goggles, he was able to make out the figures of Krushnic and his men and Jared at the other end of the building. Jared hadn’t moved from his position; Jensen’s best guess was that he’d been either cuffed or tied down to the chair he was in since he’d last seen him. The other men were all up on their feet, guns drawn, spinning on their heels and feeling their way around in the dark. They all looked more than a little concerned for their own well-being…all but one.

Krushnic wasn’t panicking. He had a disturbing air of calm about him instead as he stood there. It reminded Jensen all too well of his last minutes with the man two and a half years ago, that serene and peaceful look he got just before he struck.

“So we meet again… _Jensen._ ”

At the mention of Jensen’s name, Jared lifted his head from where it had been hanging down against his chest and he began to look around, all but blinded by the darkness. Jensen ached to go to him and reassure him that everything would be okay, but they were far from out of the woods yet.

Jensen remained silent as he closed the distance between himself and Krushnic, didn’t respond to the man’s baiting. In his mind, he knew that he couldn’t be seen, but damned if it didn’t look like the man was staring directly at him, following his every movement. It was chilling to say the least. Jensen knew he had the upper hand, but after what Krushnic had done to him, he couldn’t help but be instinctively fearful of the man and what he was capable of. Trained as he was, Jensen was still only human; he’d seen his life flash before his eyes.

This…person—and that was a long stretch of the definition—was the reason Jensen couldn’t call his life complete, the reason he had never asked Jared to marry him, the reason his relationship with the love of his life wasn’t as perfect as it should be. Now that he was thinking about it, he had let this asshole beat him…and Jensen would be damned to Hell if he was going to let him do the same to Jared.

Jensen kept his Glock steadily trained on Krushnic. No matter how much he wanted to blow the bastard away, he couldn’t, not unless there was a show of deadly intent—and right now, the man was doing nothing but standing there, hands out to his sides; his weapon wasn’t pointed at anyone. Even so, Jensen had to consciously keep himself from just pulling the trigger and ending it all, here and now.

“Seems I found your other half. Now what are the odds of that?” Krushnic grinned as he glanced toward where Jared was seated then back in the general direction of Jensen. “I like him. He’s got some real fire in him, a lot like you.”

Krushnic shifted, then, taking half a step closer to Jared; Jensen’s trigger finger flexed slightly in reaction. Chris was supposed to show up at any minute. All Jensen had to do was keep the situation under control until then—but he didn’t like taking a gamble when Jared’s life was at stake; Krushnic was too damn close…and inching his way closer to the younger man. Jensen was going to have to draw any and all attention away from Jared for the time being.

“Drop your weapons,” Jensen commanded, purposely giving himself away and causing the other men to look in his direction as well. Jared also looked toward him at the sound of his voice. Now that he was closer, Jensen could see the fear on Jared’s face—knowing Jared, it was probably more for Jensen’s life than his own—but he couldn’t dwell on it; he was facing four armed and wanted criminals… Jensen frowned then. There were only three men at the other end of the warehouse. _What the hell? Where’d the other one go?_

“Oh, we can do that—follow the man’s orders—can’t we boys?” Krushnic slowly began to crouch down; he carefully placed his gun on the floor in front of him. Jensen adjusted his stance, eyes scanning the room searching for the fourth guy while keeping watch on the other three. _He couldn’t have gone—_

The lights flared to life blinding Jensen, his night vision magnifying the intensity of the fluorescents above. _God-fucking-dammit!_ Jensen reached up and flipped his night vision back up, but he knew he’d lost precious seconds. A shot rang out and he felt the searing heat of a bullet as it tore viciously into his shoulder. It knocked him off balance, but he remained steadfastly on his feet. He heard Jared yell out from across the room.

Jensen let off a handful of shots as he dove behind one of the wooden crates to his left. He squeezed his eyes shut, vision still reeling as he crouched there. At the same time, he heard shots being fired outside. _Chris_. That answered his question as to where the fourth guy had gone. Jensen didn’t have the time to worry about his partner; he still had three of the fuckers to confront all on his own and Jared was still tied to a damn chair.

When he opened his eyes again, things were almost normal; he’d have to make do. Jensen snuck a peek around the edge of the crate he was hidden behind and saw that one of his shots had actually hit with what looked like deadly accuracy. One of the bastards was down on the ground, unmoving.

One perp down, two to go.

A bullet zinged by his head, nicking the corner of the crate above him as it passed sending shards of wood flying. Another couple lodged in the wall behind him. Jensen ducked low, took aim, and fired several more rounds.

“C’mon, Chris,” he mumbled as he dodged another shot; this time, a bullet ricocheted off the floor near his foot, just barely missing him as he tried to keep hidden.

His Glock was good, but Jensen preferred his M14 in a situation like this. He quickly swapped out weapons, pulled the lens cap off his scope, and took aim.

Krushnic’s remaining sidekick was getting too close to Jared for Jensen’s taste and Jensen brought him up in his sights; his finger tightened on the trigger…and he squeezed. The kickback of his rifle slammed hard into his wounded shoulder and he winced, but he ignored the flare of pain as he watched the burst of blood erupt from the guy’s chest.

Another one down. One to go.

“Give up, Krushnic; you’re done. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to run.”

The man hadn’t moved, not even with the shots being volleyed back and forth all around him. Krushnic was too damn calm. He tilted his head as he looked at Jensen—and then he laughed, an icy peel ringing out through the cavernous room. Jensen shivered from the chill creeping down his spine.

Krushnic suddenly became quiet, his expression now deadly serious. “Did I or did I not tell you that if I ever saw you again, I would make you and yours pay?”

Deep in the recesses of Jensen’s mind, the words rang a small, faraway bell—his recollection of _that_ night had always been a little foggy. But Jensen found himself slipping away, the memory pulling him in.

Jensen blinked. The world shifted…

_He was lying on the ground, the coarse and gritty texture of the concrete floor chafing against his bruised and bloodied cheek. Cold was settling into his bones and his eyes were growing heavy, the light slowly fading from them as he bled out…_

_Krushnic was kneeling over him, breath brushing over his skin as he leaned forward and spoke. “I can respect a man like you,” the words were whispered so only Jensen could hear them, “so I’ll walk away from this—you may live, you may die; it all depends on whether your friends find you in time—but know this, if I see you again, I’ll make you and yours pay. No one gets in my way.”_

_“…you and yours…you and…yours…” The words echoed in Jensen’s head._

**Jared**.

Jensen blinked again forcing himself back into the present. He grit his teeth, muscle flexing in his jaw, as he watched Krushnic through his scope, right index finger curling tighter around the trigger of his rifle. All he needed was for the man to breathe wrong.

Krushnic’s lips lifted into a smile then. Jensen had seen that same look before... That’s when he saw the small black box he now held in his hand. A red light was flashing on it.

_FUCK!_

Jensen pulled the trigger.

After that, everything moved in slow motion. He could practically see the bullet sluicing through the air before it punched into Krushnic’s left shoulder just below his collarbone—but it wasn’t enough to stop the other man who was already in motion. Jensen squeezed the trigger again, but he would never know if the shot had hit its mark because the blast wave hit and everything around them burst into a bright, burning blaze of heat.

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

Jensen opened his eyes. He was on his back staring up at…stars. It took but a moment to clear his head and remember what had happened as he watched the flames licking at the edges of what was left of the warehouse roof.

A bomb. The place had been rigged.

_No! Nonononono! Jay!_

He had to get to Jared. Jensen’s immediate thoughts of rescue were hindered by a large piece of the roof—or was it part of the wall?—that was pinning down his right leg. Shit. He tried to lift it off, but he was only half successful. He took a deep breath and tried again, wincing when it finally shifted and slid off to the side. Underneath, in the dim glow of his smoldering surroundings, he saw his shin was slick with blood and hoped that was the full extent of his injuries. Jensen pushed up his feet; he wobbled some as the room tilted and settled around him. His right ankle was more than a little tender, but held up under his weight; his shoulder ached but he would have to ignore it for now. He removed his helmet and pulled off his balaclava as he looked around trying to gather his bearings. He didn’t care where Krushnic had disappeared to. _All that mattered was finding Jared_.

Jensen pulled his flashlight out and then moved as quickly as he dared, sweeping the beam of light around as he waded through the sea of hot, twisted shards of metal, pieces of singed and broken sheetrock, and burning crates. He was surrounded by swirls of dust, shifting shadows, and dark shapes; the flickering light from the burning remnants of the building and its contents were playing tricks on his eyes. “Jay!” he called out, panic heavy in his voice. He grunted as he lifted something that looked like half a wall out of the way. “Jay, answer me, please!”

Aside from the nagging pain in his ankle and the pulsating throb in his shoulder, his head was pounding something fierce and his ears were ringing. Jensen knew the only thing keeping him on his feet was the adrenaline pumping through his veins. When this was over, he was going to sleep for a week—and he was going to keep Jared by his side the entire time.

Stopping in the general area of where he thought Jared should be, he clipped his flashlight to the mount on his shoulder and began to sift through the rubble with his hands. He pulled more sheetrock out of the way; he lifted what were maybe the remains to a window frame and tossed them aside, then more sheetrock, a piece of corrugated metal from the wall of the building, a piece almost too heavy to move… He kept going, digging, lifting, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve as he went. Jensen was growing desperate, felt tears stinging at his eyes.

And then he saw a hand sticking out from under another sheet of metal, the frayed remains of a rope were still wrapped around its wrist; the fingers twitched ever so slightly. Hope grew at the sight and Jensen moved faster. “Jay, I’m here. Hang on, man.” He heaved more debris off to the side, whispering promises mixed with curses as he dug deeper. Finally, he uncovered Jared’s face. The younger man was on his stomach, cheek pressed against the cold floor; his hair was wet with blood from a cut high on his brow and was plastered against his face.

Jensen squatted down and moved Jared’s hair back from his face. Beneath the strands, he saw darkening bruises and winced. _Dammit._ Krushnic and his men had really roughed him up. When a soft groan was let out, Jensen couldn’t help his sigh of relief.

“Hey, Jay, you with me?” He gently cupped the side of Jared’s face and lightly swept his thumb over his boyfriend’s cheekbone in a soothing gesture.

“Jen? S’that you?” The words were slurred…but they were the most beautiful thing Jensen had ever heard. Jared was at least coherent enough to know who he was.

“Yeah, Jay, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay…just…” Jensen glanced over at the wreckage still blanketing most of Jared’s body. If all Jared got out of this was a mild concussion, he’d be damn lucky. “Give me sec to get some more of this crap off you. Think you can hang on, no passing out on me?”

Jared didn’t reply with anything more than a simple, “Yeah,” blown out on a tense breath.

Jensen got to work, ignoring both the nagging ache in his ankle and the incessant pain in his shoulder as he did. It took longer than he’d hoped to get Jared dug out. The younger man let out a pained whimper when he lifted another slab of sheetrock, the splintered length of a support beam still attached to it, off his right arm and hefted it aside. The limb was twisted at an odd angle and was still tied to what remained of the chair Jared had been bound to; the chair itself was tangled and buried under yet another mound of rubble.

“Hang in there, buddy,” Jensen said as he got down to his knees beside Jared. _Jesus Christ, what a fuckin’ mess_ , he thought to himself as he removed his gloves and unsheathed his knife. “Just gotta cut this rope off to help free you up and s’probably not gonna feel too good when I do. Your arm’s not lookin’ so hot, so try to hold still, alright?”

All he got was a tight nod in response.

A small voice in the back of Jensen’s mind was telling him that this was all his fault, that if he hadn’t fucked up the last time he’d run into Krushnic, that if he hadn’t hesitated _this_ time and had just taken the kill shot—screw the rules—Jared wouldn’t be in this position. All he could do was apologize. “I’m so sorry, Jay. I’ll make this up to you; I promise. You’re gonna be okay,” he repeated, although, he wasn’t sure if he was saying that more for Jared’s benefit or his own.

Jensen quickly cut the remaining bindings away, his well-honed blade slicing through the rope like a hot knife through butter—but no matter how gentle he tried to be, Jared still yelled out when his arm finally slipped free. Jensen dropped his knife to the floor and reached over to help roll Jared over, making sure not to jar his arm too much in the process.

“Owww, fuck!” Jared heaved in a shuddering breath and blew it out, chest rising and falling sharply.

Jensen’s eyes immediately darted down the length of Jared’s body. His normally pristine white button-down was torn and charred—several buttons were missing; his pants had certainly seen better days…and he was missing a shoe. At his first overall glance, Jensen didn’t see anything wrong, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t missing something. For a split second, Jensen worried that Jared might have something more severe than a cracked head and a broken arm, like a neck or spinal injury. Dammit, he should have checked before moving him. Some EMT he’d make. Jensen had been trained in the fine art of killing people, not saving them.

“Jay?” He couldn’t hide the worry in his tone.

“I—I think it’s…” Before Jensen could ask, Jared hoarsely finished his thought, “My shoulder… Dislocated,” he managed to explain on a groan.

Jared made a weak attempt at sitting up and Jensen reached out to help him. Jared grasped his hand tightly with his left, allowing himself to be hauled upright; his right arm hung limp at his side. Jared swept his hair back from his face and dabbed at a cut high up on his cheekbone with the back of his hand, smearing blood and soot across his cheek; he looked down at his arm then back up to Jensen. “Can you—?”

By now, Jensen’s guilt was running rampant and keeping his brain from functioning properly. He couldn’t think straight. “Can I what?”

“Fix it.”

The words were very nearly pleading and Jensen swallowed. He’d set one or two dislocated shoulders while overseas, including his own that one time, but…this was Jared. _C’mon, focus. You’re better than this,_ Jensen scolded himself.

“Yeah, okay,” he finally conceded, knowing Jared would feel world’s better once the joint was back in place. “Brace yourself. Hurts like a motherfucker.” He moved around Jared to get in better position and then gently took his boyfriend’s arm bringing it down to his side, keeping it bent at the elbow. “Alright, relax for me. On three…”

Jared’s breath hitched at the movement, but he nodded, eyes meeting Jensen’s.

“One…” Jensen kept eye contact with Jared as he began to count; he could see the mixture of both pain and fear there, but what he also saw absolute trust. On “two”, he shifted Jared’s arm quickly, applying pressure and popped the joint back into place. Jared yelped half in pain and half in surprise, but it was over.

“Jesus! What the hell happened to three?” he growled as he reached up and rubbed at his shoulder.

Jensen wanted to laugh with relief because _that_ was Jared; Jared was going to be okay. But he didn’t. His emotions at seeing Jared still alive and pretty much in one piece had him pulling his boyfriend into a tight hug.

“God, Jay. I thought I was gonna lose you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

Jared seemed startled at first, then settled into the embrace, left arm coming up and wrapping around Jensen’s back. “Jen, don’t. S’not your fault,” he replied, cutting the apology off; Jared knew Jensen too well, knew he was blaming himself. There was a press of warm lips to Jensen’s neck. He closed his eyes and let himself just breathe. He’d almost lost Jared, but someone up above had decided it wasn’t his time yet.

“Jensen! Hey, man, you two still alive in there?” It was Chris. ‘Bout damn time the fucker showed up.

Jensen reluctantly pulled out of the hug. He noticed as he did that Jared was starting to tremble, even if only slightly. _Shit._ There was a good chance the younger man was going into shock after everything that had happened. “Yeah, we’re over here,” he answered distractedly in the direction of his friend’s voice. He had to get Jared warm.

Jensen unclipped his flashlight from his shoulder, set it on its end on the floor to keep the area illuminated as much as possible, then peeled out of his vest and took his jacket off. He draped it over Jared’s shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it would help.

Chris could be heard making his way through the debris. A muttered, “Fuck,” and a few other colorful expletives were heard as he stumbled and climbed through the mess. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a whole lot of flammable stuff in the warehouse; the small fires all around the place had all but burned out in the few minutes since the explosion

He looked at Jared again. “You sure you're okay?” he quietly asked.

Jared’s bangs fell over his face when he gave a simple nod. “Maybe just a little cold...dizzy," he admitted, "but I—I’ll be better when we get home. You?” He reached up toward Jensen’s wounded shoulder, but stopped just short of touching it. The wet slick of blood was dark against the black of Jensen’s shirt sleeve. His eyes then fell to the bloody tear in Jensen’s pant leg. Even in his current state, Jared was picking up on the small details; it was one of the things that made him so good at his job.

“Just a couple of scratches. All’s I need is a Band-Aid or two,” he said with a wry grin. Jensen was doing his best to keep his growing concern for Jared hidden from the younger man; he’d feel a lot better about things once help arrived and they could get out of here. When Jared pursed his lips still looking a little worried, he assured him, “Seriously, I’m good, Jay. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.”

Jensen wanted to keep Jared up and talking until they could get him checked out, make sure he really was okay, so he decided to use the time to try to get an answer to something that had been on his mind since this whole thing had started. “So, you gonna tell me what you were doing at that bank today? I put two and two together; you were there before the fireworks started goin' off.”

Jared frowned for a moment as if he had to give the answer some thought. “Following a lead?” The reply came out more as a question making Jensen start to wonder how hard Jared really had hit his head.

Jensen kept his words light-hearted—there was another time and place to discuss Jared’s penchant for getting himself caught up in things bigger than he could handle. Right now, he was just happy Jared was alive. “Well, maybe next time you’ll leave the criminals to the professionals and stick to something a little less,” he looked around them, taking in the devastation, “hazardous to your health.”

Chris came into view, then, the beam of his flashlight settling on the two men. He let out a low whistle. “Shit, man, I leave you two alone for less than ten minutes... Really?” He carefully stepped over a steel girder that had fallen to the floor not more than a few feet away from where Jared had been.

“The place was wired.”

“Well, that’s pretty fuckin’ obvious, dude. Is the son of a bitch under this mess somewhere?” Chris carded his fingers through his long hair and looked around them. He toed at a piece of sheetrock at his feet.

Jensen let his eyes move over the ruins of the building that surrounded them. Krushnic was better than that. “No,” he shook his head, “he's long gone by now.”

The sound of sirens in the distance had them all turning their heads toward what had once been the front of the building.

“Figure out how you’re going to explain this to the Cap yet?” Chris asked looking back at them and not bothering to keep the shit-eating grin off his face now that he knew they were all okay.

Jensen actually laughed at that. “Nope. That’s Morgan’s job.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know... Epilogues are supposed to be short and tidy. Somehow this one didn't end up like that at all. I blame my betas since they PUSHED for a "happy" scene *cough, cough* on top of everything else that I had to wrap up. Thanks, ladies. I still love you though :)

: :  : <> : <> :  : :   : : <>  **EPILOGUE**  <>  : :   : :  : <> : <> :  : :

 

_< ><>  One and a half months later  <><>_

 

New Year’s Eve…

Their food had arrived not long ago; the rich, mouth-watering aromas of pepperoni, sausage, peppers, and garlic drifted through the house making it smell like one of LA's many pizzerias. From the bedroom, Jensen could faintly hear the familiar sounds of Jared moving around in the kitchen. He was gathering the necessities—napkins, a couple of glasses, the bottle of champagne, and probably a bag of gummie bears knowing Jared's sweet tooth. They'd chosen to stay in tonight and spend a quiet evening together on the couch while watching the ball drop on TV.

Once Jensen had taken care of paying for the food—he’d given the delivery kid a hefty tip since it was a holiday. Hey, Jensen was a nice guy, what could he say?—he left the pizzas on the coffee table in the living room before excusing himself to use the bathroom. Somehow, afterward, he’d ended up where he was now: sitting on the edge of their king-sized bed staring down at a small black box which he held in his hand.

Jensen didn’t know how he’d ended up changing course from heading back to the living room to, instead, rummaging through his bottom drawer to search out something he hadn’t looked at in…well, two and a half years. He pressed his teeth into his lower lip as he thumbed the lid open and looked at the simple white and yellow gold band inside.

Things had been quiet since the incident down at the docks. Aside from a few minor scars, Jared’s and Jensen’s injuries had healed almost completely—in the end, Jensen had spent more time at the hospital than Jared; he’d forgotten what a pain in the ass it was to have a bullet removed. That day was nothing more than a bad memory for the two of them. Morgan had been able to smooth things over with the Captain—he’d somehow managed to spin some fantastical yarn that kept both Chris and Jensen out of trouble. In return, the two of them would be replacing his roof this spring…free of charge. (It was more than well worth it in Jensen’s opinion.) Jensen had also had an awesome time explaining to Jared how he’d been able to track him down as quickly as he had—“Seriously?” Jared had squawked. Yeah, Jared was going to be holding that one over his head for a while.

And then there was Dmitri Krushnic. The man had, once again, disappeared without a trace.

During the six weeks or so that had passed since his encounter with the criminal, Jensen had spent a lot of time thinking…about himself…about Jared…and about their relationship. He couldn’t recall how many times he’d slipped away into his own mind and then was stirred when a worried Jared shook him by the shoulder or squeezed his knee. When the younger man asked him what was wrong, Jensen never really had an answer to give him. Jensen had kept things bottled up for so long that he didn’t know how to explain what was going through his head.

He was never afraid of dying—no, that was never the problem—he couldn’t do what he did if he was, but he’d always feared for what it would do to Jared if something did happen. One of the conclusions he’d come to, though, was that it wasn’t his choice to make. Chris was right; Jared was a grown man, an adult, and very capable of making his own decisions. By trying to play things safe, Jensen was slowly draining the life out of them, killing them both.

Jensen hadn’t made any plans for tonight, but somehow here he was. He pulled the ring from the soft, slotted cushion in the box and held it between his thumb and forefinger; it shone in the dim light from the lamp beside him. It was funny how such a small object could have so much meaning. As he stared down at it, he felt his stomach begin to knot up with nerves. He started to second guess all the conclusions he’d come to.

Jared hadn't brought the subject up again, hadn't even hinted at it, since that day in November. What if he said no? What if the whole ordeal with Krushnic had made him think twice about things? What if Jared had finally decided he couldn’t take the risk? What if he’d finally decided Jensen wasn’t worth it? What if—?

“Hey, you okay in here?”

He’d been completely deaf to Jared’s approach and the other man’s soft voice startled Jensen causing him to fumble the ring. It fell to the floor when Jensen failed to catch it and his eyes followed it as it rolled and spun and danced under the soft amber glow of the bedside light, making its way across the hardwood floor to where it came to a stop at Jared’s feet.

_Oh, shit._

Jensen could only watch with wide green eyes as Jared stooped to pick the ring up from the floor, his long, delicate fingers wrapping around the fine piece of jewelry.

"Jen," Jared asked, brow creasing in curiosity, "what's this?" He glanced up at Jensen, then back down to the ring in his hand.

Jensen didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to reply, but found that it had suddenly gone dry. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

He saw Jared’s face change as it dawned on him as to what he held in the palm of his hand. Jared’s expression became shocked, quickly turning into disbelief as he looked from the ring, to Jensen, and then back to the ring.

When Jensen was finally able to form words, he said, "Not quite how I pictured this playing out."

Jared’s eyes were bright when he looked up again. "Is… Is this...what I think it is?”

Jensen cleared his throat, eyes flickering from Jared to some random spot on the wall over his shoulder, then back to Jared again. "Uh...yeah." He absently reached up and scratched at the nape of his neck, unsure of how Jared was going to react.

"Are you…?" Jared’s facial expression was changing too fast from one emotion to another for Jensen to make sense of what he might be thinking. “Jen?”

"I think so."

Jared swept his long bangs back from his face. He was looking down at the ring again…for too long. Jensen began to squirm a little where he sat as he wondered what was going through his boyfriend’s head. When Jared looked back up at him, there was a tear tracking down his cheek.

The words were quiet, “Oh my god.”

Jensen blew out a breath then. "Please tell me that's a yes."

He wasn’t prepared for it when Jared tackled him to the bed.

Jensen rolled with the impact of the larger man, an "oomph" bursting out from his lips as his breath was momentarily knocked out of him.

“Yes!” Jared planted a big, wet kiss on Jensen. He missed his mark by a mile in his excitement, but quickly found his way home. “Yes, yes,” he repeated against Jensen’s lips before licking his way into Jensen’s mouth and searching out his tongue.

He opened his mouth and accepted the younger man’s enthusiastic kisses, smiling into them as he slid his hands up under the soft material of Jared’s flannel, beneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt, searching out the warm flesh that was kept hidden beneath so many maddening layers. _Why did Jared always insist on keeping this gorgeous body of his covered up with so much?_ Jensen was brought out of his fleeting thoughts when he felt the hard line of his boyfriends, no wait,  _fiancé’s—_  Jared had said yes after all  _—_ arousal pressing into his thigh.

Jensen felt his own cock begin to stir from the friction of Jared’s body shifting and grinding over his own. He needed to slow things down for just a minute. Don't get him wrong, he wasn’t turning down sex, but he wanted to be sure Jared knew what he was agreeing to before things started to get hot and heavy. He rolled them, pulling his arms out from under Jared’s back as he straddled him and then slid his hands down until they reached Jared’s wrists. Jensen then drew the younger man’s arms up until they were pinned above his head just below the headboard; Jared's left hand was still clutched tight and Jensen knew the engagement ring was tucked safely away under those long fingers.

Jared was looking up at him, dimpled smile cemented in place. Love shone in the darkened hazel of his eyes and Jensen couldn’t help but stare, take it all in. After all the hell he’d put Jared through…

Jensen’s grip tightened on Jared’s wrists, more out of his own anxiety than anything.  “Jay, are you sure about this, you don’t maybe need some time to think it over?”

“Jen,” Jared wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, “have you ever known me to do something I _didn’t_ want to do?”

Jensen didn’t have to think about it. Jared was probably one of the most stubborn people he knew, and that included every person he’d ever come across while serving in the military. He shook his head. “No.”

“Then believe me when I say I want this… _you_. Okay?”

He could see the sincerity in Jared’s eyes, the need for Jensen to trust him on this. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he finally conceded with a nod. “Yeah, okay.” And then he leaned down for another deep kiss.

“But...there are two conditions,” Jared said in between kisses, lips still brushing against Jensen’s. When Jensen pulled back, confused, Jared smirked at him as he uncurled his fingers revealing the ring. “The first, I want you to get down on bended knee and put this ring on my finger the proper way, and then,” he rocked his hips upward reminding Jensen how hard and wanting he still was, “I want you, my future husband, to make mad, passionate love to me. And believe me when I say I want to still be feeling it when I go back to work on Monday.”

“Huh.” Jensen frowned as if in concentration, doing his best to make it look like he had to think over Jared’s demands. And then he replied, “I think I might be able to manage that….” He stole a chaste kiss from Jared before releasing the younger man’s wrists and plucking the ring from his hand with a grin. “…Princess,” he added at the last second.

He backed up, just barely ducking out of reach of Jared’s playful punch to his shoulder at the comment, and climbed off the bed. He reached out, taking Jared’s hand in his own, and pulled him over until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. And then Jensen dropped to his knee on the floor, still holding onto his boyfriend.

When he looked up at Jared, the younger man was silent, eyes bright and shining once more.

“Jay,” he started, but his voice cracked with sudden emotion; he felt the heat of tears behind his own eyes which he tried to blink away. Jensen took a second, cleared his throat, and began afresh. “Jay, I, uh— Crap, I hope you’re not expectin’ some perfect proposal here, because I’m gonna suck at this.” He let out a nervous chuckle, cleared his throat again and started over. “I can’t thank you enough for sticking by me even though I tried to push you away. Lord knows you should’ve kicked my ass a few times over for that. I know I’ve been quiet a lot lately, but I’ve just been trying to get some things straight in my head. You know I’ve had my share of problems ever since what happened…,” he trailed off. The corner of his mouth twitched with something akin to an apologetic smile as he moved on not wanting to bring up the past. This was now, and what he was asking for was the future.

“I’ve decided that I’m not gonna let my fears get in the way of us anymore. It’s not fair to you…or me. I love you more than anything, and from what I can gather, you feel the same. So, uh…” Once again, he stumbled some. He looked down at their joined hands when he felt Jared give him a reassuring squeeze. “Jay,” Jensen said as he looked back up into Jared’s beautiful, jewel-toned eyes, “will you marry me?”

Jensen brought the ring up, holding it between them as he waited for Jared’s response.

A tear slipped slowly down Jared’s cheek. “Yes, Jen,” he said—the words were quiet, but sure—as he lifted a shaky hand up, fingers extended so Jensen could slip the ring on with fingers that shook almost as much; it fit perfectly. “And you’re right. I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to spend my life with you.”

“Thank you again for waiting, Jay.”

Jensen reached up and wrapped his hands around Jared’s face, pulling him down into a fiery kiss. When they broke away from each other, only because they had to catch their breaths, Jensen moved on to Jared’s stubbled jawline, peppering it with feather-light kisses.

“Now, I think,” he started as he nipped, then soothed with his tongue, “you said…” He dragged his teeth over the sensitive skin just behind the hinge of Jared’s jaw working his way toward his ear. “…something about…” He darted his tongue out teasing more flesh while at the same time sliding his hands up Jared’s thighs, thumbs just barely skimming the edges of his boyfriend’s straining erection, causing Jared to moan with want and pleasure. “…making ‘mad, passionate love,’ ” he finished up with a heated whisper.

Jensen felt the lusting shiver that ran through Jared’s body at his words. It was all the answer he needed. “Get your clothes off,” he said, his voice already growing husky, evidence of his own need.

“Fuck,” Jared growled as he scooted back onto the bed and immediately started tearing out of his flannel.

Jensen’s eyes were glued to Jared as the younger man pulled his t-shirt up over his head, exposing the broad planes of his chest, the toned muscles of his abs. He forced himself to look away and start working on his own clothing when Jared began to kick out of his jeans.

By the time Jensen was stripped out of his wash-worn Henley and track pants, Jared was already sprawled out across their bed showing off his every asset; his cock was thick and heavy, precum already gleaming at its tip.

Jensen licked his lips at the sight. “Shit, Jay,” he said as he crawled onto the bed and settled between Jared’s legs. “So fuckin’ hot.”

Jensen was all for “mad” and “passionate” right about now. They could take their time later…and he knew there would be a later.

He crushed his lips against the other man’s, delving into the moist heat, tangling their tongues together as he lined their cocks up and rocked down into Jared. Both men groaned at the fierce contact, hands clutching, nails leaving faint red trails on each other’s bodies.

Without breaking contact, Jensen reached out with one hand until he gripped the knob of the nightstand and yanked the drawer open. He blindly fumbled until his fingers wrapped around the small bottle of lube they kept in there. Lube in hand, he reluctantly pulled away, breaking their kiss, and snapped the lid open as Jared watched his every move with lust-blown eyes.

Jared shifted and bent his legs giving Jensen more room to work. He was unusually quiet as Jensen warmed the slick gel between his fingers.

“You okay?” Jensen asked, concern lacing his words.

Jared reached up, his ring glinting in the soft glow of the lamp, and tenderly brushed his fingers along Jensen’s shoulder, almost caressing the newest scar Jensen now bore. He smiled warmly then. “I’m coming out of shock still,” he answered. “I…I still can’t believe it. I’m engaged.”

If Jensen were to admit it to himself, he was still in shock as well, but he swallowed it down; the corner of his mouth quirked up instead. “Yeah? Really? Is he good-looking?” he teased. “Is he good in bed? He better be if you’re planning on marrying him. From what I hear, that's long-term, no goin' back.” Jensen reached down and circled the tight furl between Jared’s ass cheeks with the tip of his finger.

“Yeah, he’s—” Jared’s response was cut short when Jensen pressed his finger into him and he groaned. “He’s…beautiful.”

“Beautiful, huh?” Jensen crooked his finger and searched out Jared’s prostate. He knew he found it when the younger man arched off the bed with a moan. “And the sex?” Jensen tucked a second finger in and began scissoring them, stretching Jared. Jared’s breath hitched and a soft keen rose from his throat. God, he loved how reactive Jared was to his touches.

“The best. The only one—” He gasped as Jensen found his sensitive bundle of nerves again. “…I ever want,” Jared got out in between deep breaths. His hand had found its way down to his cock and he loosely fisted it in time with Jensen’s motions.

Jensen smirked. “The best?”

Jensen slipped a third finger into Jared when he felt the muscles relax. He was so turned on himself that he was going to have to get moving sooner rather than later. Jared’s words and the tight heat wrapped around his fingers were pushing him too close to the edge. He circled the fingers of his free hand around the base of his own cock to stave off any thought of orgasm.

Jared’s eyes flashed at Jensen. Jensen could clearly see the arousal in them, but he also saw something else underneath. Humor. “Oh, for Christ's sake, fuck me already, Jen. Your ego’s already big enough.” Just as the dry comment left his mouth, Jared threw his head back into the pillow and let loose another groan when Jensen dragged his fingers over his prostate one last time before pulling them out.

“I’ll show you ‘big,’ ” Jensen kidded back as he found the lube again and got himself ready. His own breath hitched as he jerked himself a couple of times. And then he moved forward and lined himself up with Jared’s well-slicked hole.

“I love you, Jay.”

With one steady, solid movement, Jensen thrust his hips forward and buried himself deeply into his fiancé.

 

: : <> : <> : :

 

The food had been eaten. The champagne had been drunk. The ball had fallen. It was the new year. And Jensen was engaged.  _Damn. Just wait until Chris finds out._

They were in bed again, Jensen half asleep with Jared held tightly in his arms, their legs entwined with one another's. From the heavy breaths coming from the younger man, Jensen knew he was already asleep. He nuzzled his nose into Jared’s neck and pressed a soft kiss to the warm flesh, breathing in deeply, taking in all the details he could remember about tonight.

The sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand broke into the calm, peaceful state Jensen was in. He groaned and rolled over, looking at the clock beside the bed as he did. 2:43 a.m. Shit, who the hell was texting him at this time of night (or morning)? He glanced at Jared. The man could sleep through an earthquake; it would take more than a text message coming through to wake him.

Jensen reached over and grabbed his phone, blinking his eyes to adjust to the sharp light of the device. A text had come through from Chris. The last he knew, the man was working the overnight shift having muttered something about wanting to collect on the double-time for working a holiday. He half glanced at the message, expecting some “Happy New Year” crack from the man, or maybe a belated "Happy Anniversary."

But it wasn’t.

Jensen narrowed his eyes as he read the text again. And then he read it a third time…and a fourth. His brain understood what the words meant, but it took a minute for him to catch up. He felt his breath stop, maybe his heart, too, as his fingers curled around the phone.

“We _got him, Jen. It’s over.”_

Anyone other than Chris would have called with the news, but his friend knew Jensen too well, knew that he would want to take time to just…let it sink in.

He closed his eyes and allowed the relief to slowly wash over him. _The threat of that bastard was over._

After he composed himself somewhat, Jensen keyed in a quick reply—he thanked Chris for the info and said he’d be in touch with him later—and then he shut the phone down and rolled back over, wrapping his arm around his fiancé and pulling him in close. Jared stirred at his touch and grumbled something that sounded like he was asking if Jensen was okay.

“Yeah, Jay. Better than okay. Get some sleep, huh. This old man needs some rest before we move on to round three.” He kissed the back of Jared’s shoulder blade and smiled.

Definitely better than okay.

 

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, another happy ending for the guys :)
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> Thank you so much for reading! Please remember to leave a comment, complimentary or otherwise; I look forward to them. If you don't feel like leaving a comment but liked the story, even just a little, hit the Kudos button so I know you were here.
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